“No, I don’t. She’s been staying away from us and not talkin’.  She’s been actin’ mighty strange ever since- well, you know.”

 Yes. He knew. He also knew that he had been acting strangely himself. He was hurt and confused. Seeing that had been shocking and harsh….but he suspected that Marty was referring to Jack’s death, not the kiss.

 Elizabeth sat stonily on the deck. Sobs threatened to come; threatened to make her bawl and scream.  She promised herself that she would not cry, at least not tonight.

 She knew that Jack was a good man, despite his betrayal, his cocky arrogance and his unordinary love of rum. She had long ago realized that chaining him to the mast and leaving was the worst mistake she had ever made. And now she had no idea where he was, whether he was dead and gone, or somehow alive.

 Will heard the scuff of a boot, and the sound of someone’s breathing. He quietly turned the corner of the ship - the ship that Tia Dalma had somehow managed to find – and saw Elizabeth. Well rather, someone who resembled Elizabeth. This wasn’t the real Elizabeth; this person was a ghost. By day she was silent as she went about her work, only speaking when completely necessary. At night, in the moonlight, with the stars twinkling above her, she looked like some kind of tortured ghost; beautiful, despite her look of grief. This was worse than seeing cursed, skeletal pirates, or the slimy crew of The Flying Dutchman. This was the person he loved more than life itself, and this time he couldn’t help her.

 “Ah, curse Jack Sparrow!” Will thought, angrily. “This is his fault; all of this is his fault!”

 He started to go to her, to try to comfort her, but his broken heart held him back. He turned and went back below deck, back to his bunk, to try to relax and find precious sleep.

 Elizabeth turned her head just in time to see Will’s retreating back. She was shocked, but then realized how stupid and selfish she was. How could she expect Will to still care for her? How could she expect Will to try to comfort her? He had every right to walk away, to forget her and leave her to her sadness. But, still, it hurt.

 One kiss, just one kiss, and look at all the turmoil it had caused. But she didn’t regret it. She regretted hurting Will, and she regretted leaving Jack, even if it saved everyone else. But she did not regret that kiss. Could not, would not regret it.

 She looked up to see a shooting star, and made a wish. Hopefully, somehow, it would come true.